Cat Nap

21

Sunny returned to the office feeling a little bit lighter and definitely more stylish. Her stylishness factor declined considerably when she saw Jane sitting behind her desk. The office furniture might be on the beaten-up side and the computer was definitely last generation, but Jane looked high-fashion and perfectly groomed in spite of missing out on her weekly beauty fix.

“I’m back,” Sunny announced as she opened the door. “Please tell me that Ollie didn’t stop by.”

“Nobody stopped by,” Jane told her. “The phone didn’t ring. This was the quietest hour and change I’ve spent in I don’t know how long.”

“I’m surprised,” Sunny said with a grin. “With you in the window, I’d have expected our foot traffic to go up a couple of hundred percent.”

Jane gave her a skeptical look. “When you start spreading it that thick, I know you’re setting me up for bad news.”

Sunny shrugged. “It looks as if Trumbull isn’t playing head games. The police did talk with the Venables family, and Kristi did indeed give her mom an alibi.”

Jane slumped in the desk chair, her hands clasped together way too tight. “That means he’ll be coming after me again. I guess the only thing that’s slowing him down is that he can’t put me in Portsmouth at the time of the murder.”

“Maybe that’s because you weren’t,” Sunny pointed out. “Your car—”

“Do you know that he’s had people out at Sal DiGillio’s checking the repair records on my BMW?” Jane interrupted. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he got his hands on the tire, trying to prove that I gave myself a flat to create an alibi.” She shook her head. “This guy is relentless, Sunny. Sooner or later, he’ll find something he can twist into a reason to bring me back to that station again, and Tobe won’t be able to stop him.”

She shuddered. “And even if Trumbull doesn’t succeed, I still have Dani and Olek busily trying to ruin my life. It’s as if everywhere I look, I’ve got someone coming after me.” Jane got out of the chair. “I have to talk to Tobe.”

Sunny watched her friend go out the door. She seems to be seeing a lot of Tobe lately.

*

Business picked up after Jane left. Sunny spent the afternoon looking at e-mails, answering the phone, and booking several B&B reservations. The shadows were getting pretty long outside when the phone rang and she found Will on the other end. “I’m just on a break,” he said quickly. “Would you like to grab a bite this evening? There’s a new place that’s supposed to be like a New York restaurant.”

“Sure,” Sunny replied. Since it was a school night, they set an early date. Sunny finished her work, closed up the place, and went home to check in with her dad.

Mike was delighted that she was going out. “I can make myself soup and a sandwich,” he assured her. “Have a good time.”

Sunny put on a nicer sweater than the one she’d worn to work, a soft wool number in a purplish tweed. Then she put on some makeup and waited for Will.

The place he was talking about turned out to be up in outlet-land, which should have been a warning. When they got there, Sunny realized it had formerly been a burger place that failed. Now it had a new sign, HOLLBECK’S NEW YORK DELI.

Oh yeah, she thought wryly, very New York.

The interior hadn’t changed very much from the joint’s burger-slinging days, a lot of white tile and stainless steel with very bright lights. It was also pretty loud, even though the weeknight diners didn’t crowd the place.

A waitress gave them a menu that would have looked more at home in a diner. But there were deli foods that Sunny remembered from her time in New York. “I’ll have the brisket platter,” she decided. Will went with corned beef and cabbage. When the food arrived, Sunny found that her brisket had been cooked in tomato sauce—not necessarily bad, but definitely not New York style. On the other hand, the beer—Sam Adams—was decent, and cold.

Will took a long pull from his bottle. “I’m worried about Jane and this Phillips guy,” he abruptly said.

Sunny tilted her head, a little taken aback by the dinner conversation. “You put them together.”

Will winced at her response. “I put them together professionally. But they seem to be hanging out a lot. Ben Semple saw them in a café, acting awfully friendly.”

“Well, friendships have been known to come out of professional connections,” Sunny pointed out. “They did know each other years ago. They could be catching up from old times.”

“Uh-huh.” Will took a forkful of corned beef. From the look on his face, Sunny would have thought it was rancid.

“And Jane has been under a lot of stress. It’s not surprising she might lean a little on the guy who’s helping her out.”

Will nodded, conceding the point, but he still looked discontented. “Yeah, but—”

“You know, Will, it’s nice to be invited to this real New York experience.” Sunny gestured toward the glaring lights and the loud, echoing noise in the restaurant. “But if you’re going to take me out and then whine about Jane going around with some other guy, you’ve got another think coming. This isn’t high school. We’re adults now—supposedly.”

She looked him in the face. He swallowed hard, showing a little embarrassment and a lot of shame.

“It’s not that,” he began and made a jerky gesture with his hand. “Okay. It probably is a little of that. I’m worried that they’re getting a little . . . distracted from what they need to be doing.”

“You mean, they’re pissing Trumbull off instead of persuading him to look for other suspects?” Sunny said.

Will nodded.

“Well, he certainly did his best to dispose of Christine Venables and her family.” She told him about her interrogation and the information that the detectives had dropped.

“I thought they might have been playing me, making up a story to get Jane rattled,” she went on. “But it looks as if the information was legit. I talked to Christine’s alibi.” She gave him a quick recap of her undercover haircut.

Will frowned, toying with his fork. Sunny thought he was going to lecture her about butting into Trumbull’s case. Instead, he said, “What they told you could have been only half true. Phillips should definitely check out the husband.”

Sunny nodded. “I expect he’s doing that.”

“As for the daughter, well, that’s what we call an unreliable alibi,” Will went on slowly. “The girl is out of work, depending on her mom for a place to live, and you say she has a medical condition covered by her parents’ insurance?”

“That’s right,” Sunny said.

“So she’s really dependent. Kristi may have given her mother an alibi because she doesn’t want to upset the family applecart. Or if she’s aware of Christine’s relationship with Martin Rigsdale, maybe she’s trying to avoid a scandal.”

“So you’re saying the alibi isn’t as strong as it sounds?”

“Yeah.” Will speared another slice of corned beef as if he were hunting it rather than eating it. “That’s the kind of question a district attorney would consider, trying to decide if he had a strong enough case to bring to court.”

“From Trumbull’s point of view, it looks as if Jane is guilty until she proves herself innocent.”

Will nodded in agreement. “Like it or not, she’s a strong suspect. Most murders happen over love or money. Martin humiliated Jane in one and was pestering her about the other. It’s a two-fer. No wonder Trumbull likes it.”

He dipped his corned beef in a dollop of mustard, brought it to his mouth, and chewed, looking unhappy as he swallowed. “That’s why Phillips really has to be on his game.”

“No distractions.” Sunny had some of her brisket. All of a sudden, it seemed pretty tasteless.

Somehow, they struggled through the rest of the meal on small talk. As a dating experience, Sunny would not list it among her top ten.

As they headed out for Will’s pickup, he turned to her. “I’m sorry if I said anything stupid. I like you, Sunny, and I enjoy being with you. I don’t want our time together to be a drag.”

“You had things on your mind, and so did I,” she said. “It’s not a big deal—if we don’t let it be.”

He smiled. “You’ve got a good way of putting things.”

They got into the pickup, and Sunny’s phone rang. It was Jane, her voice very shaky. “Could you come over—now? I’ve got a bit of a situation here.”

“On the way,” Sunny replied. Jane cut the connection before Sunny could ask any questions.

She turned to Will, who had his cop face on.

“That was Jane,” Sunny said. “I hate to ask this, but can you give me a lift to her place?”

“She’s in trouble?” Will asked.

“I don’t know,” Sunny had to admit.

“Well, we’ll both find out.” Will started up the truck and headed for Jane’s house.

Jane answered the door wearing one of her veterinarian’s smocks. “Oh, thank God, Sunny.”

She broke off when she realized Will was standing there, too. “Why—” Jane began.

“We were out catching a bite to eat,” Sunny said, “And we came right over when your call came through.”

“If I’d known that, I’d never have bothered you.” Jane took Sunny by the arm, lowering her voice. “I don’t know how we’ll do it with Will around, but I need you to talk some sense into Tobe. He wants to go to the police.”

“He’s here?” Sunny said.

Jane sighed and led her to the kitchen. Will trailed behind, looking a bit wary.

Tobe Phillips sat at the kitchen counter, holding a bag of frozen corn to his face. He took it away, wincing, and shifted to a new section. In the process, he revealed an ominous swelling below his left eye and a cut on his cheek. Jane quickly put down a tray with a pair of medical gloves, a tube of antiseptic ointment, and a small bandage. She moved the frost-covered bag away from Tobe’s face and examined his eye.

“What happened?” Will asked.

“Don’t tell him,” Jane begged.

“Of course I’m going to tell him,” Tobe replied. “I still have to report this to the police.”

“This is a police matter?” Will’s voice went flat.

“For the Portsmouth police,” Tobe explained. “A case of assault.”

Will glanced from Tobe to Jane, looking baffled. “You assaulted him, and now you’re trying to treat him?”

Is that even kosher for a vet to do? Sunny wondered as Jane whirled around, stung.

“You think I did this to him?” Her voice was way too loud. Jane took a deep breath, and when she spoke again, her voice was quiet and professional. “I’m just trying to make sure he’s all right.” She turned to look into Tobe’s eyes. “Okay. Your pupils are the same size. I don’t think we have to worry about a concussion. You didn’t vomit or lose any memory.”

“I might wish I could forget it,” Tobe said. “It was embarrassing. The guy didn’t even knock me out—he just landed me on my butt.”

“Who did it and where?” Will’s cop persona was definitely taking over.

“This big guy,” Tobe replied. “And it happened in Portsmouth. Jane called me, pretty concerned about the way the police were taking this case. I took her out to dinner, and we discussed things.”

From the look on Will’s face, all of a sudden his corned beef wasn’t agreeing with him.

“I was walking Jane back to her car,” Tobe continued, “when I noticed someone following us, a big guy. When I asked him what he was doing, he sort of blinked, like he wasn’t sure what to do. But he made up his mind damn quick. He punched me out and then walked away.”

“It was Olek,” Jane whispered to Sunny. “I guess Dani told him to keep an eye on me,”

Remembering how Olek had to call in when he found himself being followed, Sunny suspected the big guy was better at following orders than thinking on his feet. Confronted by Tobe and lacking instructions, Olek had done the best he could think of—knocking Tobe down and getting out of there. Simple but efficient in its way.

Unfortunately, Will had overheard. “Olek?” he repeated. “Dani? You mean Olek Linko and Danilo Shostak, the Ukrainian mobsters?”

“I, uh . . .” Jane wilted under Will’s interrogation. “I guess so.”

“How do you know them?” Will demanded.

“Who is this Olek character?” Tobe said at the same time.

As Jane stumbled through the story, Will pinned Sunny in place with a glare. “I see you left a few facts out when you told me about these guys.”

Tobe’s face was so pale, his incipient shiner stood out like a blotch on his face. “Ukrainian gangsters? Stolen money? And you didn’t even mention it?”

“It’s something we don’t want to bring attention to.” Sunny tried to explain why.

“I don’t know if I can just sweep this under the rug,” Tobe said. “I’m an officer of the court.”

“And I’m an officer of the law,” Will added savagely. “You realize that if Martin stole from them, these guys could have killed him? Look what this Olek guy did to Tobe with one shot.” He gave the lawyer a condescending smile. “I don’t suppose you’re used to that kind of rough-and-tumble.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Sunny warned Will. “He’d have planted you on the pavement, too. If you want to go up against Olek, I’d suggest hitting him with a truck first. But I don’t think they killed Martin.”

“Why?” Will ground the word out. “Because they told you nicely?”

“Because they’re still looking for the money,” Sunny answered.

Will scowled. “So they say.” He turned to Jane. “In the meantime, they’re trying to extort the same amount from you? Did it occur to you that they’re just trying to double their money? They’re gangsters, after all.”

“If you’d excuse my saying so, I think you’re wrong,” Tobe said slowly, putting the frozen bag back on his face. “From what you’ve told me of his history, this Danilo fellow seems to be allergic to trouble. But a murder connected to his operation would bring attention in spades. In my experience—and I have dealt with some organized crime types—if he was guilty, he’d have gotten out of town. If not, there has to be a reason for taking the risk—and that has to be the missing money.”

“Fine, fine,” Will almost snarled. “So the money is still in play. What are we going to do about these guys?”

Now it was Tobe’s turn to go poker-faced—not easy, with vegetables covering half of it. “I think I’m going to play the attorney-client privilege card.” He gave Will a hard look with his good eye. “As you said, these guys are gangsters. Can you guarantee Jane and Sunny’s safety if you go after them?”

Will stood for a moment with his mouth open, then closed it with a snap. “All right,” he said, obviously hating every word. “We’ll keep it quiet for now. I hope you’re right. Otherwise, I can lose my job.”

Hey, I could lose my life, Sunny almost said, but then thought better of it. But one look in Will’s eyes showed he was thinking the same thing.

“I’m sorry, Will,” Jane said. “We really didn’t know what to do.”

Will took a deep breath and then let it out forcibly through his nose. “You’d better get to work fixing Tobe’s face,” he advised. “I think you’re going to have a shiner, but let’s try to minimize the damage as much as possible.”

Jane carefully examined the cut, cleaning the broken skin. Then she covered it with a layer of ointment and topped it with a little bandage. “Try icing it as much as possible,” she advised, “just don’t rest anything cold on the eye itself. And if you feel sick or dizzy, go see a doctor. A people doctor,” she added with a strained smile.

“The other thing—you want to pick someplace where you fell, unless you want to say you walked into a door.” Will’s eyes were keen as he looked at Tobe. “Did anybody see this happen?”

Tobe shook his head. “It was a quiet street, and Jane bundled me into her car pretty quickly.”

“That’s good,” Will said. “Just decide on your story and stick to it. Now I have to get Sunny home. Then I’ll come back and drive you to Portsmouth.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Tobe said. “I can call a cab.”

“Sure you can,” Will told him, “if you want a witness and a record. Do you have a house or an apartment where people will see you?”

“Nope, I just closed on a house.” Tobe shifted the improvised ice pack again. “So that’s lucky.”

“Yeah.” Will looked from Sunny back to the front door. “We’d better get going.”

The air outside was getting cold again, but it was even frostier inside Will’s pickup. They drove in silence for a while, until Sunny finally cracked. “I didn’t want to tell you unless I had to,” she said. “I was trying to keep you from falling into this nonsense.”

“Uh-huh.” Will’s voice was toneless “I figured I’d better get you alone in case there were any other surprises you had for me. Stuff that Jane’s lawyer shouldn’t hear.”

“No, that’s it, I promise,” Sunny assured him. “And from the way you’re acting, you can see I did it for your own good.”

He made a wordless noise, then glanced over at her. “Well, I guess this trumps taking you out and then—what was the word?—‘whining’ over an old girlfriend.”

Sunny jerked up straight in her seat. “You’re keeping score now?”

Will gave her a rueful smile. “Apparently, it’s the closest I can come to keeping track of you.”

They arrived at Sunny’s house, and she gave him an impulsive kiss on the cheek. “I really am sorry.”

Will looked at her for a long moment. “I wish you could expand on that.” Sunny wasn’t sure whether he meant the apology or the kiss. Then he went to open the door. “Got to ferry Tobe home.”

Sunny laughed. “There’s a ride where I’d like to be a fly on the wall. Don’t give him a shiner on the other eye.”

Will waited till Sunny was in the doorway. She waved good-bye and came into an empty downstairs. As he always did when Sunny went out, Mike had gone up early, leaving the living room lights on. Lately, though, when she’d come home from a date, Sunny had found a reception committee. Shadow had always greeted her.

Can’t think of that now, she thought. Got to get some sleep.

*

The next morning, Sunny groaned as she got out of bed. She’d hit the hay early enough, but her mind had kept racing around in circles. And then she’d had weird dreams, where Olek got in a fight with Shadow, and Shadow had knocked him down.

When Sunny came down the stairs, she found that Mike had made breakfast—a good thing. But he obviously hoped to hear something about last night. Sighing, Sunny gave him the whole story.

Mike stared. “You know, I’ve lived here all my life, and I never met people like you’re talking about.”

“Well, you were away a lot.” Sunny dropped the flip reply when she saw the look on her dad’s face. Yeah, thanks to his job Mike hadn’t been around for a lot of things . . . like the accident that took his wife’s life. “I mean, you’ve been lucky, Dad. These are people you wouldn’t want to run into. Besides, they’re Portsmouth people.”

The appeal to local pride won out. “Portsmouth,” Mike said in dismissive tones, as if that explained everything.

Sunny arrived at the office and settled into the usual Friday routine, where crowds of shoppers and couples called in with last-minute checks or disasters en route, and Sunny did her best to help them.

In a way, it was a comforting routine. Sunny was just sort of puttering mindlessly along when the office door opened and Dani Shostak came in. She sat, gawking, as he came up to her desk.

“The police, they start now to ask questions about the Dr. Rigsdale’s money,” he said. “Very soon now, I have to go somewhere like Montreal. I’d like to have my money back before I go there. Much less trouble.”

He tilted his head a little, his long, thin face contemplating Sunny. “You think whoever it was killed the doctor, they took the money? I keep on thinking it might still be in his house or office, but Olek says no. For a fellow with his size, he is very good at getting into places.”

“I’d say Olek is good at a lot of things,” Sunny said. “I just wonder if he went a little farther than he intended, asking Martin about the money.”

“Olek?” Dani shook his head. “One of the things he’s best at is hitting people. Look at that young fellow last night. Olek hits him just enough so it looks like maybe he falls down instead of getting punched. He is professional. He would be very hurt to hear you say these things.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to hurt your feelings more,” Sunny told him. “I find myself wondering if Martin stole from you, you got your money back and killed him, and now you’re trying to double your money by going to Martin’s ex-wife.”

“That’s a smart idea,” Dani said. “I wonder if you get it from your cop boyfriend.”

Sunny forced herself to keep looking into Dani’s eyes, and not show her surprise that he knew about Will. She’d been out with Will often enough; anyone could have spotted them together. It was just a little unsettling that she had missed either the big Ukrainian or his skinny boss.

I guess there are things they’re good at.

“Well, I suppose these are things you must wonder. Some people I have done business with, they might do bad things like that. Me, I think that just makes trouble. I think maybe you believe me.”

He spread his hands, a man trying to make a point in a language that wasn’t his own. Then his face got a little chilly, his manner more direct. “But I got to have that much money. Or I end up in trouble.”

Dani nodded emphatically and went to the door, to discover Mrs. Martinson standing right outside. Dani opened the door and ushered her in with a little bow.

“Thank you,” Mrs. M. said.

She got another bow from Dani, and then he was on his way.

Sunny shook her head. You’ve got to appreciate a gangster with manners.

“So what brings you to this neck of the woods?” Sunny asked. “Are you picking up something at Judson’s?”

Helena Martinson shook her head. “I promised you I’d do some more quiet asking around about Christine Venables. Well, I heard something, very much in confidence. A friend of mine had been shopping in some of the Portsmouth art galleries a few weeks ago. She stopped off to have a cup of coffee in a little place in the artsy area. Anyway, she had just finished and was heading for the door when she noticed Christine in a quiet corner.”

“She hadn’t seen her before?” Sunny asked.

“That’s the thing that first struck my friend. She’d been sitting with her back to Christine, but Christine should have noticed her.” Helena cocked her head. “Let’s just say my friend is hard to miss. Christine could have stopped by to say hello—if she’d wanted to.”

Sunny nodded. “So maybe something was up.”

“My friend didn’t think about it at the time. She was almost to the door. Why should she go plowing back through this place to get to Christine?” The older woman leaned forward confidentially. “Actually, she was going to. But then her cell phone rang, so she stepped outside to answer it. That should have been the end of the story.”

From the lift in Mrs. Martinson’s voice, Sunny knew to add, “Except . . .”

“My friend crossed the street, walking back to her car. And who does she see opposite her, going into the café, but Martin Rigsdale?”

Sunny frowned in thought. “Did your friend mention the name of this café?”

Mrs. M. pursed her lips. “From the neighborhood, it had to be something to do with painting . . . or wells.”

“Wells?” Sunny echoed blankly.

“Café Artisan,” Helena Martinson suddenly said. “Whenever I hear the name, I think of artesian wells.”

“As long as it helps you remember,” Sunny told her, chuckling.

But her neighbor didn’t join in. Instead, Helena looked troubled. “There’s something else I should mention. Another friend of mine was up in the outlets last week. She mentioned seeing Carolyn Dowdey at that pet care place with a cat bed and a bag of food.”

“Well, we know it wasn’t a sale that brought her in,” Sunny said. “Maybe she’s getting an early start on preparing for that replacement cat she discussed with Jane.”

“Sunny, that pet adoption class isn’t for another month.” Mrs. Martinson’s voice was troubled as she spoke. “You know that Carolyn isn’t exactly what you’d call retiring. Whenever she got a cat, she quoted chapter and verse from this book on how to get the animals to trust you. It was all about setting aside an empty room where the cat was supposed to get acclimated, providing a bed where the cat could be private, and sitting in the room while they ate.”

The longer she talked, the blunter Helena became. “This all happened since Shadow got out and went missing.”

Sunny blinked. “You think she’s trying to forcibly adopt my cat?”

“Carolyn got something else,” Mrs. Martinson went on, “one of those wooly pet sweaters.”

This revelation almost got a laugh from Sunny. Shadow was about as likely to wear one of those frou-frou outfits as her dad was to don a ballet tutu. “I don’t think—” she began.

But her neighbor wasn’t finished. “And she asked how it would look on a gray-striped cat.”